Confinement
by Blcklagoon
Summary: Gul Madred once again has Picard in his grasp. His new method of torture goes far beyond the agonizer to something Picard cannot even fathom.
1. Chapter 1

"Well my dear Captain," Madred rose from his desk. "I believe we have had enough of these time-consuming pleasantries."

He pushed a yellow button at the corner of his desk and two guards immediately entered. They took several steps through the entry and waited. Picard felt a tightness in his stomach. A flood of memories crossed his subconscious and he sensed the first prodding fingers of fear. Madred stepped from his chair and motioned toward the door.

"Come. There is someone I want you to see."

Picard blinked. He did not trust his sense of relief. He had fully expected to be stripped of his identity and bound as he was before. Tentatively, he leaned forward and rose from his chair. Gul Madred's stared at him, his face expressionless. Picard remembered his near complete ambivalence toward him as a subject of interrogation. That detachment had returned. This was a dangerous man, and he revealed nothing about this next stage of the game.

Madred left his guards to escort Picard down a series of rock tunnels, not unlike those he had been originally captured in. Seemingly unending, the corridors meandered and joined in an unsolvable maze. As the group traveled down a continuous slope, the rockface sides began to effuse a musky wetness. Picard could smell the dank odor of despair. Ahead, muted moans echoed against the stone.

Passing three iron-barred doors, the guards stopped, opened the fourth door, and motioned Picard inside. He stepped into the dark, empty cell and listened to the bars close behind him with a clang.

For the moment he stood still, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light. He welcomed the time to think over his current predicament. It appeared, for the time being, he had some control over this situation. Perhaps his first encounter with the Cardassian military carried repercussions for them that they were not willing to revisit. In the relative quiet, Picard snapped to attention at the soft clatter of chains from the corner of the cell.

"Who's there?" He asked sharply.

In the instant the strained, whisper of a response hit his ears, Picard was seized by dread.

"Jean-Luc?"

His feet tripped over themselves as he sprang toward the sound with desperate urgency.

"BEVERLY!"

He cried out her name more to convince himself that his unthinkable fear had come true. As he moved forward, the light he blocked from the door cast across a wooden bench. In the shadows sat a shacked form hugging it's legs, head bowed. Picard threw himself to his knees in front of her and gripped her shoulders gently.

"My god! Are you alright? What have they done to you?"

She slowly raised her head and allowed the sight of her Captain to sink in. Blinking against the backlight, she searched his familiar features half believing he was a mirage.

"Beverly? Answer me!" Picard shook her out of the trance.

A watershed of tears burst forth as she leaned into his arms. Gasping between sobs, she recounted her capture and interrogation. Madred had told her he had killed Picard this time because he wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know and that Starfleet had been told that she was dead as well. He had injected her with some drug and asked her questions about invasion plans and weapons schematics. When she told him she didn't know anything about security, he beat her, insisting that her captain would have shared this information with her.

Picard listened in horror. His mind's eye envisioning Madred circling his latest victim. The thought of any of his friends being subjected to the torture he received was hideous. The reality that he had laid even a finger on Beverly was almost unbearable. He held her close to him as her body shook with relief and fatigue.

"My god...I'm so sorry..." he spoke softly. Within minutes, she had given over to exhaustion and fallen asleep in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

"Beverly, wake up...someone's coming."

Footsteps sounded down the corridor. Crusher shook herself awake, looking up to see two Cardassian forms block the light at the door. Picard's grip on her tightened as one of the guards opened the bars.

"Both of you. Let's go." He hissed.

Reluctantly, they rose and moved toward the exit. Once in range, the guard grabbed Crusher by the shoulder and forced her in front. Tripping over her manacles, she fell to the stone ground. Immediately, the guard yanked her up and pushed her forward. Picard stepped from the cell and followed untouched as the second guard motioned the way.

They slowly made their way back through the maze. Every now and then Crusher stumbled in her leg-irons and the guard impatiently badgered her up again. By contrast, the other guard made no movement toward Picard except to stop him from assisting his struggling crewmate.

They reached the end of the tunnel and entered a smooth stone complex, stopping in front of two doors. The guard opened them and deposited Crusher in one and Picard in the other.

The room was plain, but no less hospitable than a standard crew quarters on the Enterprise. There was a couch and side chair with a small table and a single bed in the corner. On the table in front of him lay a spread of food and drink. The guard said simply that these would be his quarters for now and that he should get some rest.

"What have you done with the doctor?"

"She is in the room next to this. She will be given food and drink as well." With that said, he turned and left.

Picard paced the room for a few minutes to satisfy himself that the door was the only way out. He put his ear to the common wall of the room next to his and listened for Beverly. He heard nothing. Finally, he sat at the table and poured himself a drink from a cool metal canister. He sniffed it and took a swallow. From his experience, they were not likely to poison him. If they had wanted him drugged, they'd have done it by force.

For the next hour he picked at the fresh fruit and drank the clear ale, running through the events of the past two days...

The Enterprise had arrived at Thalius in the Dalian System near the Cardassian border. Their orders were to respond to reports by the neighboring planet Karus that Cardassian military personnel had made a territorial claim of expansion. The Cardassians countered with claims that the Thalasians were conducting illegal research on a new plasma weapon. Starfleet had seen fit to let Picard know that these claims were, in fact, accurate.

Over the past ten years, Cardassia's allegiance with the Federation had become increasingly strained by their imperialistic impatience. Starfleet predicted, correctly, that they would attempt to expand into UFP territory. For the past two years, Thalius had operated under the guise of a mining colony, covering the development of a first-strike deterrent. Thought the planet was to more than 40,000 colonists, only the handful of researchers actually on the project knew the truth. As suspicion in the system heightened, both sides stepped up counter-intelligence and the body count began to rise.

The Enterprise's mission was to respond to the Thalius colony's call for help, Picard's silent orders were to bully the Cardassians into engaging them. In the ensuing chaos, the research section of the colony would be evacuated and mysteriously destroyed. Unfortunately, the Cardassians had already transported troops to the planet's surface and reached a stand-off with colonists who fought to protect their homes. Only Picard and the project scientists knew how close they were to the weapons facility - or so he thought.

A security and medical detail beamed down to the colony to tend to the wounded. Meanwhile, Picard transported directly to the facility and right into Gul Madred's trap.

A knowing sense of dread overcame him as the reconnaissance officers conveyed him across the border into Cardassian territory. Picard, himself, had set the circumstances that afforded his crew little chance of tracking him. No one except Admiral Sargot knew of his beam in, and she was not likely to expose the underlying conditions. Picard also knew that this time he did posses the knowledge Madred would be looking for. He steeled himself against the thought of the torture to come.

To his surprise, the Gul was pleased to see him. Perhaps Picard had garnered some degree of respect form their last meeting. Madred asked him a few questions, but mostly discussed the differences in Federation and Cardassian philosophy. When the two guards arrived to escort him out, he had had no idea what to expect. Certainly not this.

Picard put down the empty cup and lumbered over to the sofa. His body felt heavy, and he wondered if they had, indeed, slipped him a mickey. He slumped onto the cushion and rested his head in his hands. A fog came over his mind, and he drifted out of consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

In the room next door, Crusher let out a silent scream of pain as the Cardassian "medic" made an incision with a crude metal scalpel just below her left shoulder. Though paralyzed from sight and movement, she felt every inch of the cold blade.

"As you may have guessed, I have injected you with laricaine. I assumed that, being a physician, you would want to be aware of exactly what it is I am doing." She felt a sear of heat and smelled the singe of flesh. "Urgh. I'll never be accustomed to red blood."

As she inwardly reeled in agony, he proceeded to explain in medical detail the device that was being connected to the core of her sensory system. She recalled the story Picard had told of the pain produced by the device inserted in him. Her knowledge of the physiology behind it had allowed her to understand his pain more than anyone. Crusher had been revolted by the grotesque application of medicine. Now, that medicine was being applied to her. The terror nearly consumed her as she clearly felt the medic's hand move inside her own chest.

* * *

Picard awoke and groggily rubbed his eyes. How long had he slept? Before he could answer himself, the door opened and Madred stepped into the room alone.

"Captain Picard. Did you have a pleasant rest?"

The pretense of courtesy inflamed him. Picard rose from the sofa to face Madred. "What have you done to Dr. Crusher? You must know she can't possibly know anything about military intelligence."

Madred's cordial smile collapsed into a sneer. "My dear Captain, do you think me a fool? I am fully aware that this is the same female you were with when you attempted to invade our territory before. Would you begrudge me a few questions of her?"

"I've been asked your questions, Madred. I know what you do when you don't like the answers. I'm telling you, she knows nothing."

"Relax. I believe you. I give you my word. She will face no more interrogation."

"Then let her go." Picard tried not to sound pleading.

"I'm afraid it's not quite that easy. You see, I still have questions and I'm going to get the answers from someone." He glared at Picard and snapped his fingers. A moment later, the two guards returned and directed him out.

Picard glanced back nervously at the closed door next to his before he was prodded back through the tunnels to the stone cell. On his way through the labyrinth, he strained to memorize the path. He didn't believe for a second that Madred would leave Beverly out of this. Upon reaching the fourth door, the first guard opened it and stepped back. Picard moved into the cell, again expecting it to be empty.

The limp body of Crusher lay across the wooden bench. Her arms dangled lifelessly to the ground. In the light from the corridor, Picard could see the tear in her uniform and a stain of blood. He rushed to her side.

"Beverly?" he pulled her hand to his chest. "What have they done to you?"

Crusher looked up at him through dazed eyes. "Jean-Luc? My God...I was awake...when they operated...I could fell them put it in..."

Picard looked through the tear at the rough incision and understood what had been done. He shook his head in anger. "Damn Madred! I told him you knew nothing! He gave me his word that you would not be interrogated! The lying bastard!"

Crusher lifted a shaky palm to his face and spoke softly. "Jean-Luc, you don't understand." She shook her head. "He has no intention of asking me any more questions. He knows you're the one with the information. He's going to use me to get to you."

For a long moment, they just stared at each other in silence. Picard held her hand and closed his eyes with a look of defeat.

With an effort, Crusher strained to sit up against the wall. She took a deep breath and swallowed. "You know something, don't you?"

He looked at the dirt floor. "I can't believe I got you mixed up in all this. Admiral Sargot should never have sent us out here alone."

"This is a pretty big deal, isn't it?"

Picard nodded, still looking at the floor.

"Jean-Luc, listen to me." She raised his eyes to meet hers. "You've got to promise...no matter what they do to me, you can't give them what they want."

"Beverly..."

"Promise me."

He dropped his head in a single nod.

Some hours later, the guards returned. Crusher felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She had been so brave the night before, but now that the prospect of her eminent torture grew close she wasn't so sure she could handle it.

Picard made a protective move to block her from the door, but Madred had followed the guards in - controls in hand.

"Well, well, I trust you are well rested?" He focused somewhat disinterested on the captain's defensive posture. "Come now, Picard. You must realize this exercise is fruitless. The woman will be 'conditioned' until you talk or she dies. It's as simple as that."

Crusher spat from behind, her fear welling into anger. "Then just kill me and be done with it. He won't tell you a thing. That, I assure you."

Madred curled a cold, slow grin. "How wrong you are, my dear, how wrong you are. I happen to know first hand that this human will respond to your discomfort. You see, his choice was made long ago and I'm quite sure it hasn't changed. Would you like to see what I mean?"

The Gul pointed the controls toward her and thumbed the setting. Picard made a feeble attempt to block the signal with his body. Crusher was caught off-guard by a wave of shock that dropped her to her knee. A gasp of pain burst from her.

Picard was frozen to the spot, torn between embracing Beverly and going for Madred's throat. "You son-of-a-bitch! She's an innocent women. You coward! Stop this now!"

Gul Madred dropped his aim and smirked. "This is just the beginning." He turned on his heels and the guards moved in to lead the captain and half-drag the still shackled doctor.

Beverly was sweating with fear. The pain had been much greater than anything she had anticipated. How did it compare to what the captain had gone through? How much could she stand? Would she pass out? "Jean-Luc," she strained to control her voice. "You promised me! Please."

In short time, they reached the room in which Picard had begun his capture. Madred sat behind his desk and Picard was bound to the only other chair in the room. Beverly was lead before him. He dropped his eyes unable to look at her. Madred snapped his fingers and a guard slammed a baton under Picard's chin, forcing it back up.

"I'm not here to play games. Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy this method of questioning so I'll move quickly to the point." He turned to Crusher. "Brace yourself well, Doctor. This will be your only opportunity."

Crusher tensed the muscles in her gut and waited. Nothing happened. Just as she began to relax, a wave of pain slammed into her and she doubled over. Hugging her stomach, she grit her teeth tight and forced herself under control. For nearly a full minute, the pain throbbed through her and she fell to her knees.

Picard strained against his bonds, shouting a stream of curses at Madred. He was filled with a rage that threatened to burst at his temples.

At long last, Madred thumbed another button on the control and the hurt stopped completely. Crusher gulped air to feed the fire in her lungs and marveled at how quickly she recovered. Though her head was swimming, she felt no residual pain. Using the back of her hand, she wiped away the tears that had run down her face.

"I'm OK Jean-Luc." She encouraged with a weak smile. "Don't let him get to you."

"You are a brave fool, doctor." Madred replied evenly. "And you have no idea what you are talking about."

Again he fingered the controls and Crusher was knocked her off her feet. She collapsed to the ground - a scream torn from her throat. Her body reflexed into a fetal position. In overwhelming agony, she squeezed her eyes shut until she saw purple. The pain could not be compared to the previous onslaught. For what seemed an eternity she seized on the stone floor, gasping only enough air to continue to scream.


	4. Chapter 4

Picard stared at the empty floor before him. Guards had drug away Crusher's still form. He had been unable to ascertain whether she had passed out or...not. In the peculiar quiet he could hear his mechanical heart thudding in his ears.

Madred moved from behind his desk and faced him. He roughly wiped the back of his hand across Picard's tear stained cheek.

"I think that about now the guilt should be settling in."

Picard looked up at him with a scowl.

"No really, Picard. What exactly are you going to say to her? *I'm sorry* would seem fairly shallow at this point. Don't you think? I'd be surprised if she even lets you touch her. Of course that's fine with me. I'd like her to get some rest before we start again tomorrow."

"You're an animal," Picard glared. "This savagery is beyond even you."

"Oh Captain, you apply much too much malice to this. I'm merely doing my job. And you could make it much easier by telling me about Starfleet's plans with the Delian System. We need the code key to the research facility."

Picard furrowed his brows for a moment in thought and then looked up at his captor. "Is that what this is about? You can't access the facility computers? Madred, don't think for a instant that I have that information."

"You can't tell me you are going to bother claiming ignorance."

"Of course not, you clearly knew enough to know where to find me. But I, too, was *merely doing my job* - securing a weapons base. That is the extent of my knowledge."

"Oh, you'll have to give me more than that. What was the nature of the research? What type of weapon? How close to completion? Who lead the research team?"

He shook his head blankly in response.

Madred nodded patiently in response. "Fine. Have it your way. We'll continue this tomorrow."

The two guards removed Picard from the chair and lead him down the now-familiar passageways. His thoughts moved to Beverly as he desperately tried to force the answers to all of Madred's questions deep into his mind. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could forget the code key all together.

* * *

Riker paced behind the desk in the captain's Ready Room. "Are you certain it was her?"

Counselor Troi, still pale and tense with worry, nodded. "Will, she's my best friend. I'd recognize her pain in a crowd of ten thousand people across a thousand light years. We've got to do something!"

"OK, Deanna. It'll be OK," Riker moved to comfort her on the sofa. "I've just got to figure out a legitimate way to break regulations and go into Cardassian space to retrieve two crewmembers who Admiral Sargot has reported as lost. She all out ordered me not to mount a search."

"I know, Will," Troi whispered into his shoulder. "But I also know that Beverly is alive and that she's literally living in Hell. Remember, I know exactly what those animals did to the captain. What kind of beast do you think would inflict that type of torture on a woman?"

If Troi were right, Beverly, and maybe even the captain, would be abandoned to a slow death if the Enterprise didn't respond. Riker allowed his mind to picture the faintest image of his friend's kind face twisted in unending pain and smacked his chest. The communicator chirped. "I want a senior staff meeting in ten minutes. Helm - turn us back toward the border. Riker out."

He leaned back into the sofa and hugged Deanna to his chest. Together, they comforted each other, trying to focus on the plan and not the victims.

* * *

Through squinted eyes, she saw the blur of cobblestone below her. With an odd curiosity she watched the patterns of the stones as they moved past. It took several moments for her to realize she was being drug through the corridor. Slightly dizzy, she shook the fog from her head.

The guard who had been dragging her by the left arm looked down and mumbled a curse. He let go, and too quick to react, her face smacked against the rock opening a small cut below her eye.

"Get up!"

She willed herself to comply, but her muscles would not respond. The guard threw back his leg and kicked her solidly in the ribs.

Beverly gasped for breath and coughed at the ground. The stone before her streaked red. She managed to rise up to her elbow and the guard kicked again. This time she caught his foot against her and twisted. The stunned guard lost balance and tumbled backward. With a dull crack, his head hit the wall and he dropped motionless.

In the immediate confusion, Beverly lunged upward into the gut of the second jailer. He, too, was caught by surprise. Fueled by rage, she slammed him into the opposite wall and thrust the chains that bound her wrists at his throat. He choked and stared wild-eyed as she increased pressure until he passed out. Spent, Beverly and the limp body collapsed to the ground .

Her heart was racing, blood trickled down her cheek, and she felt the stab of a broken rib - but for the moment - she was free. Beverly closed her eyes and forced herself to think. She had to get the device out of her chest. If Madred signaled the control, she was as good as captured. And it could be as little as minutes before the guards were missed.

Quickly, she rummaged through the guards utility belts. A knife, keys, a phaser, a code map and a flask. With the keys she managed to unlock her shackles and drag the guards into the nearest cell. Then she pocketed the knife and phaser, downed the contents of the flask and headed down the corridor with the code map.

*You've got to remain calm, Doctor. You can do this!* She ran past doors searching the markings for something familiar. Everything seemed to blurred together into one long maze.

Around the corner, she could here voices. She skidded to a stop. Behind her was a door. She leaned back and it opened. Quietly, she slipped inside and locked it shut.

To her amazement, she was back in the very operating suite where they had installed the agony device. Wasting no time, she rummaged through the drawers for supplies. Her medical mind coldly prioritized her injuries. There was nothing she could do about the rib and the cut below her eye had coagulated shut. The most immediate need was to remove the device in her chest. Quickly, she gathered what she would need and staged a surgical set-up on the bio-bed. She held up a mirror to reflect the site of the operation and watched as the image began to shake uncontrollably.

Was she actually going to attempt to operate on her own body? A wave of panic flooded her and she dropped to the ground sobbing.


	5. Chapter 5

Picard walked toward the cell with as much delay as the guards would allow. He was in no hurry to face the site of a tortured Doctor Crusher. And with this his fourth trip, he was beginning to recognize the path through the corridors. As he studied the ground, he thought he noticed a smear of red blood. He grit his teeth. What else could they have done to her?

As they approached the cell doors, the sense of dread threatened to overcome him. The guards opened the door and shoved him in. In the darkness he heard the clang of metal behind him and the footfalls of the jailers leaving.

"Beverly?" He whispered into the shadows.

There was no response.

He made his way to the bench and sat waiting for his eyes to adjust. After a few minutes he called out again. Still nothing. Her gingerly felt his way around the cell until her was certain that he was alone. What had happened? Where was she? He was sure that Madred had wanted him to see her. He had wanted to guilt to loosen his resolve. He had wanted him to experience her suffering. Picard thrust the only explanation he could think of from his mind - perhaps she was no longer in any pain.

* * *

Crusher wiped the blood and tears from her face. She got back up onto the biobed and filled a hypo with the closest thing she could find to a local anesthetic. Ripping a larger hole through her uniform top, she injected it near the still fresh cut. After a few moments, she lifted the mirror and tried to reverse her reflected movements as she glided the scalpel through a new incision.

She thought of how ironic it was that the monster who had done this to her had insisted on describing each inch of the surgery. With surprising speed, she located the three insert points and slid the blood covered apparatus out of her body. Though she had lost a fair amount of blood, she had gotten through it better than she had expected. With no time for operating precision, she quickly fused the affected area and injected a second dose of anesthetic.

Time was not on her side. Even though she was out of immediate danger, when the Gul found she had escaped, the captain would most assuredly pay the price. And if she did not find a way to contact help - any rescuing she did manage would be academic.

Crusher pulled out the code map and looked for anything that might resemble a communications port. About thirty meters toward the surface she found an area marked "Martov Dalmont Stag." She remembered once treating an injured Cardassian man on the Enterprise. Data had taught her the phrase "Del martov protoc" for can you speak? It was the best bet. Phaser in hand, she slipped into the corridor and made her way up the hall.

The room indicated on the map did not have a door. Crusher slid along the wall to the entrance an peered in. There was a single Cardassian manning a small console with his back to the door. He did not look armed, but further down, she could here a bustle of activity. She had to move quickly and quietly. She reached down into her boot for the knife. What part of the Cardassian anatomy was most vulnerable? Crusher felt the bite of disgust. A doctor was not supposed to study the best way to kill a patient. Moving swiftly behind him, she raised the knife high above her and swung down hard. The butt of the knife's handle smacked the back of his head and he fell off the chair.

The next challenge was to make sense of the computer console. If it were capable of sending a signal, Crusher had no idea how to operate it. She promised herself to make a point of studying the basics in at least the Cardassian, Romulan and Klingon alphabets if she ever made it out of here. With nothing to lose, she started pushing buttons. The computer screen scrolled through a series of random frequencies. Of course, even if she found the correct frequency, she didn't know how to send a coherent message. Then it all clicked. She didn't have to send a readable message! All UFP distress signals were supposed to be broadcast at 452Mhz. It didn't matter that she could only transmit gibberish, that would only make the Enterprise more suspicious. Then they could trace the signal to the source.

It took only a few minutes for Crusher to lock in the frequency and set a repeating signal. Now the clock was really ticking. Somebody was surely monitoring outgoing communications. She had to get out of the area quickly and locate the captain. Heading back the way she came, she activated the code map and followed it to the area marked "Detental."

As she made her way deeper into the winding corridors, Crusher could feel the anesthetic wearing thin as her chest began to throb. Her shoulder and arm felt heavy and stiff. When her head began to swim, she leaned against the cool, wet wall and counted to twenty. Eventually, she made it to the first set of cells she peered into the darkness.

"Jean-Luc?" Silence. She moved to the next one and the next one after that. At the fourth cell she saw a figure move sluggishly.

"Jean-Luc," she urged louder. A pair of Cardassian eyes look up at her.


	6. Chapter 6

Commander Will Riker, captain of the USS Enterprise, was having a bad day.

"Sir," repeated Lt Commander Data. "Admiral Sargot is still waiting for a response."

"And Gul Talev's has mobilized his fighters." Worf added.

They had played the bluff as long as they could. LaForge and Data had identified the planet Tulssa just inside Cardassian space as the closest likely location for a military base. Sitting on the edge of the treaty border, they had modified there sensors to search the planet. As yet, they were unable to locate their missing crewmembers."

Deanna Troi sat uncomfortably to Riker's left in her familiar seat. Though she tried to remain professional, she reached out for his hand which gripped the arm of the command chair. "Commander, I can not sense the strong emotions I felt earlier. Obviously, Beverly is not being..." She couldn't bring herself to say it. "But I know they are down there. I just can't tell you where."

"Deanna, I am out of options. If I stay here any longer I'm going to be court-martialed if I'm lucky, or blown to pieces if I'm not." He stood and walked to the center of the bridge. "Data open the channel to Admiral Sargot."

The haggard face of the admiral filled the screen. "Commander, I'd better get one hell of an explanation or you've just had the shorted command in the history of Starfleet!"

Riker's mouth went dry. "Admiral..."

Worf interrupted from the aft console. "Commander, if I may interject, I've got a lock on the distress signal we've been trying to locate."

Riker spun to make eye contact. The Klingon narrowed his stare, willing him to understand. A wide grin spread across his face. "Thank you, Mr. Worf. Please advise me when you have traced it's source." He turned back toward the viewscreen. "As I was about to say, admiral, it seems we have found our missing people..."

* * *

*The guards!* Crusher turned and ran down the tunnel. Behind her the guards she had locked up clambered to the door and called after her. Their bellows echoed down the hall. She ran as fast as she could go. Behind her, she could hear the rapid clatter of reinforcements heading her way. They were gaining on her! A phaser blast whizzed by and smashed into the stone wall. Beverly drew her own weapon, slid to the ground, turned and fired. The first body dropped blocking the path long enough for her to scramble to her feet and run toward a junction nearly one hundred meters ahead of her.

She felt the pound of every step in her side and shoulder. Sweat ran down her temples, stinging the cuts on her face. The incision in her chest had begun to tear and a warm trickle of blood soaked into the front of her uniform. *Ten more yards!*

As she rounded the turn, she ran smack into an oncoming guard knocking him flat. He lost his phaser and she kicked it down the corridor toward a group of approaching Cardassians. Reflexively, she dropped to her knee behind the fallen guard and barely dodged the phaser blast which connected with rock above her left shoulder. Rubble splintered across her back and she doubled over. A second blast hit her square in the right shoulder and she went down hard against the stone floor.

"Beverly!" Picard howled from a cell between the skirmish.

Crusher shook the thick ringing from her ears. *Don't give up* - she raised her left arm and fired. Though she discharged only once, all three of the Cardassians fell to the ground. Too stunned to register what had happen, she turned toward the sound of phaser fire behind her. To her amazement, the Cardassians were running toward her firing the opposite way back down the tunnel. For a moment she just stood there and watched their retreat.

"Beverly, behind you!"

*Was that Jean-Luc?* Crusher turned and was caught square in the ribs by the now-recovered guard behind which she had taken cover. With a snap, she felt more bones break as they rolled to the ground. Frantically, she slammed her fist into the side of his head, but he held her pinned. His forearm was closing down hard on her throat.

Down the hall Picard tore at the cell door trying desperately to come to her rescue. It held fast. All he could do was watch as the entwined forms rolled in combat. He heard a wail from Beverly and both bodies came to rest. Picard held his breath.

After a few long seconds he saw the Doctor push the limp Cardassian off to the side. She was covered in dark green blood, the knife still in her hand.

Beverly climbed to her knees and looked toward Picard's cell. In the distance, she saw the blur of approaching yellow Starfleet uniforms. She blinked, trying to focus and collapsed in exhaustion. The knife clattered to the ground in front of her.

"Sir, please stand back," said the security lieutenant as he leveled his phaser on the door. The moment it swung free Picard lurched from the cell down the hall. The other security officer was bent over the unmoving body of the Doctor. Lt. Worf, Lt Cmdr Data and another security guard came around the junction to join them.

"We have neutralized the immediate danger." Worf stated as diplomatically as possible.

Picard ignored his report and knelt down next to Beverly. Gingerly, he rolled her off the dead Cardassian and on to her back. She moaned, but did not open her eyes.

"Captain," Worf interrupted again. "We cannot beam out from this location. We must get out of the underground caverns for the Enterprise to receive our signal."

"Understood."

Data bent down beside the captain. "Sir, I could easily carry Dr. Crusher to safety."

"No, I'll take care of her," Picard snapped a bit too anxiously. "Besides, we're not out of this yet. We may still need your quick aim."

"Yes, Sir."

Picard reached under Beverly's legs and neck and her lifted up. Again, she moaned and her face grimaced with the pain of movement. "Hang in there, Doctor," Picard whispered. "Gentleman, follow me. I believe I can get us to the surface."

Worf picked up the blood-covered knife, slipped it into his sash and followed the group past the Cardassian bodies down the hall.

They moved as fast as they could with no resistance out of the detention corridors toward the main area. The constant agitation rustled Beverly into consciousness. She looked up at Picard and he read the first signs of relief on her face.

Around the corner from the "torture room" they were met by a line of seven guards, weapons drawn. In a flurry of phaser fire Worf and his team felled three. Picard backed against the wall behind Data and set Beverly down on her feet. Above the blasts he heard the yell of Madred.

"Picard!"

"Cease fire," he ordered his men.

Madred stepped into the open. Picard followed to face him, Beverly still supported by his side.

"Well, my dear Doctor," he said smugly. "I'd wondered where you had gotten off to. Of course, you realize I can't let you leave." He raised his hand and pointed the control module at her chest.

Picard gripped Beverly tightly against him, but she moved her hand away and into the fold of her uniform. He saw an odd look of defiance on her face. As the whine of the Enterprise's transporter began, she tossed the agony device out of the field at Madred's feet.


	7. Chapter 7

Picard sat in his Ready Room scanning Dr. Selar's report on her latest patient. He ran his fingers across the description of broken ribs, lacerations, blood loss, contusions, nerve damage. He let out a deep sigh of remorse. The door chime broke his concentration.

"Come."

Deanna Troi entered. He motioned her toward the chair and she sat with a tired thud.

"How is she?" He asked tentatively.

"Physically, much better. They have had her sedated to speed her recovery, but now that she is out of it I can really feel her distress. Dr. Selar has released her to her quarters. I tried to talk to her, but I just can't get past her defense mechanisms."

"She's been through more than I can imagine. Please continue to try, Deanna."

Troi shook her head. "Captain, there is not much I can do right now. I think *you* are the one she needs help from."

Picard got up from his chair and paced. "Counselor, I'm the last person she is going to want to see. If you'll recall, I'm the one who got her into this position to begin with."

Deanna gripped his arm and gently pulled him to a stop. "If you have ever trusted my judgment on anything, trust this - Beverly is scared and alone and in desperate need of an anchor to hold on to. You need to put your guilt aside and be that for her."

He looked at her for a long moment. She was right, of course. He had been avoiding Beverly because he couldn't deal with his own feelings of guilt and remorse. By comparison to what she had gone through, it felt very selfish.

He took a deep breath and walked past her out of the room. He strode up the bridge ramp and to the turbolift, not even glancing Riker's direction. He made a beeline for his cabin to get what he needed.

* * *

Beverly lay across the sofa in her living quarters absent-mindedly rubbing the spot on her chest where she had removed the device. She ran through the entire series of events in her head, recounting the confrontations as if they were acted out by a character in a novel. The pain, however, was all too real. Though most every visible trace of injury was gone, she could still feel the impact point of each blow she had received.

The door chimed.

"Computer, identify."

"Captain Jean-Luc Picard is requesting entrance," it sounded.

Beverly sat up and straightened the soft green sweater that hung loosely over a pair of black tights. She rubbed her hands across her eyes and ran her fingers through her clean, unstyled hair.

"Come." She looked up to see the casually dressed captain with two boxes in his hand. Without invitation, he entered and made his way to the chair opposite her. Silently, he placed one box on the table and handed her the other.

Beverly thumbed open the box and knit her brow at the gift. While she certainly appreciated the sentiment and didn't want to insult Picard, the very last thing on her mind was a box of Maurivian chocolates - no matter how rare they were. She tried to hide the sorrow and loneliness she felt at being so misunderstood. She looked up at him not sure what to say.

Picard nodded in the direction of the chocolates. "So, do you really think Deanna will like them?"

Beverly was very confused.

He smiled and tried to explain. "I got them as deterrents. Every time Deanna tries to pry some emotional response from me and I'm too tired or just don't want to talk about it, I can pull out this box of goodies and she instantly drops the subject. You know she can't resist - I really think I've found her Achilles heel! Pretty smart, huh?

Picard was rewarded by a tired, but appreciative smile of understanding. He moved to the sofa to sit next to her. "I brought the other box for you to use when she visits. Something tells me you might need them more than I do right now."

Beverly nodded and set the box back down on the table.

*She looked so worn out.* He leaned back against the sofa, draped his arm around her shoulders and coaxed her to lean in against his chest. For a long moment he just hugged her. She was rigid and tense. He kissed her on the top of the head then reached up to comb his fingers through her hair. Slowly, her body began to relax.

They sat in silence for a long while.

"Did I ever tell you that I consider you my best friend?" Picard finally asked. "I guess it's because over all these years, I can't image anyone with whom I have been through more - anyone who knows more about me or who I know more about. But I have to say your behavior on that Cardassian base showed me how little I really do understand about you." He paused and continued in a raspy tone, "You are the bravest woman I have even known, Beverly."

Picard drew his hand across her cheek and felt the first wetness of tears. "Just let it out," he whispered and squeezed her tightly against him. She breathed deeply and her chest began to heave with the onslaught of released tension. The anguish and pain she had stored up inside racked her body with unrelenting sobs. Picard rocked her gently trying to absorb and share the raw emotion. When at last her crying ebbed, he pulled her legs up onto the sofa and moved so her head rested in his lap. He ran his fingers through her auburn hair until she fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Four days had gone by. The Enterprise had returned to Federation space leaving Admiral Sargot and the USS Worton to sort out what was left of the diplomatic ties to Cardassia. The evacuees from the colony were being transported to Starbase 102 and a less covert operation was underway to recover the no longer secret equipment from the weapons facility. Starfleet had a few thank yous in mind for the ship that kept the strategic information from the Cardassians.

Jean-Luc Picard happily held Beverly Crusher's hand underneath the table. She still seemed very uneasy among even her closest friends, but he was pleased to know that she had chosen him to lean on. Deanna had explained that Beverly was, like Picard, a fiercely private person and that knowing that Starfleet had detailed reports of what the Cardassians had done to her made her embarrassed and shy. That is why he had convinced Admiral Brennan to accept his recommendation of a small dinner gathering in lieu of the traditionally ceremonial presentation.

Nevertheless, Beverly shifted nervously when the steward entered with a platter of champagne glasses. After everyone had been served, Picard rose and retrieved a small flat box and padd from the shelf behind him. He returned to stand beside her and gave her shoulder a squeeze before addressing the group.

 _"From President Dar Kellian, United Federation of Planets to Commander Beverly Crusher, CMO USS Enterprise:_

 _Duty is best described as the obligation with which one carries out the functions and services that arise from one's position. However, within Starfleet, the boundaries and limits of that duty are somewhat subjective. It is on this occasion, that we recognize your actions in the matter of Operation Thalius One as without question beyond any imaginable call of duty."_

Picard flipped off the padd and opened the flat box.

"On behalf of Starfleet Command, I am authorized as your commanding officer to present the Starfleet Medal of Valor. It reads: Courage, the mental or moral strength to venture, persevere and withstand danger, fear or difficulty; and Tenacity, a stubborn persistence and unwillingness to acknowledge defeat. Congratulations, Beverly."

He handed her the box and joined the senior officers as they stood to applaud. When they had stopped he reached for his glass and raised it to toast. "May we never again find need to recognize the type of sacrifice you have made."

All around the table nodded solemnly and drank the toast.

Riker was the first to break the mood by giving her a bear hug. "You realize they have only given out seven of these and never to a woman."

"And you are the first member of the medical field to be awarded as well," chimed in Data.

The doctor tried to shake the blush from her cheeks. "Well, I can't exactly say I ever set out to earn it."

"But earn it you did," Deanna came up beside her linking her arm around her friend's. "How are you feeling?"

Beverly tried to understand that her friends were just concerned and had missed her, but she wanted nothing more than to leave the party and return to the safety of her quarters and her sofa and Jean-Luc's strong embrace.

As if he knew her thoughts, the captain came up close behind her resting his hands on her shoulders. Beverly smiled at Deanna. "I'm going to be OK."

Deanna smiled back knowingly. "I'm sure you are."

Picard stuck close to her side for the rest of the evening as the officers passed around the award, drank champagne and concentrated on small talk as far from the subject of Cardassia as possible. Geordie had reported that her medal was made of solid lattnium. Data, however, corrected him in that there was a 20 micron coating of transparent silver to protect the softer metal underneath. Worf offered to fit it with a miniature security alarm to protect it from theft.

Still early in the evening, the captain rose and announced that Dr. Selar had made him promise to have her patient back to her quarters. Beverly thanked everyone for coming and they said her goodnights. Lieutenant Worf met them at the door.

"Doctor," he held out a wooden box. "I would like you to have this."

Beverly took it and rubbed her hand across the Klingon writing engraved in the top. "Thank you, Worf."

He added in a low voice. "You should open it in the privacy of your quarters."

She nodded cautiously and set off with the captain toward her cabin. When they arrived she set the box on the dining table and sat down.

Picard stood behind her. "Would you like me to leave?"

"No, of course not." She unlatched the cover, lifted the lid and let out a small gasp.

Picard gripped her shoulders in support as he, too, recognized the knife she had used to kill the Cardassian guard. Beneath the dagger was a note. Beverly removed it and they read it together.

 _Doctor Crusher,_

 _I realize that you and I have not agreed on the honor of defeating one's enemies. In some ways even our positions are at complete odds. On occasion, you have been called to treat the very wounds that I have inflicted. Each of those circumstances, however, was complicated by issues of alliances, politics, diplomacy and orders._

 _What you have experienced is the pure challenge of survival. In hand to hand combat, you were faced with the choice to kill or be killed. I understand the magnitude of that decision for you._

 _The inscription on this box translates as "no other option." Let it serve as a reminder of your uncompromised dedication to preserving life._

Beverly shook her head in disbelief and rested it on the table.

"The complexity of my crew will never cease to amaze me." Picard said from behind her. "I am truly the most fortunate Captain in Starfleet."

Crusher replaced the note and dagger and latched the wooden box. Emotionally drained she stood and faced Picard.

"Jean-Luc..." She moved closer into his arms. Her blue eyes focused on his were sad and happy at the same time. "I would never have fought so hard against them if I hadn't been fighting for you."

She leaned in and touched her lips softly to his in a long chaste kiss. A second, less modest one followed and then a third. Finally, she drew back to look at him and smile her sad smile.

Picard reached around him for her hands and brought them up gently to his mouth. "Let's get some sleep."

She nodded and followed him into her bedroom. Within ten minutes, she was sound asleep in the strong embrace of a man who was much more than her captain.


End file.
